Nightmare Crack
by Jade the Grey
Summary: On one of the many nights spent camping in the woods, Harry goes to investigate a strange noise and comes face to face with his nemesis sooner than planned. And The Dark Lord has a strange request... CRACKFIC!


**Hello all!  
>SO yeah, I've been off the radar for a while, sorry about that.<br>Apparently things like a job and being a productive member of society can get in the way of writing fanfiction. Who knew?  
>Anywho, a little warning here. <strong>**Beware! This fic contains copious amounts of crack! In fact, it's pure crack!  
>DO NOT TAKE SERIOUSLY! Don't like Crack? Don't read, don't flame. You have been warned.<strong>

**Now, before any of you point it out to me, yes I am aware, that the HP series take place in the 90' and some of these references, if not all, are recent. I know, but like I pointed out before, it's crack.  
>Also brownies for anyone who can give me all the AVPMAVPS references in the fic. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. If I did, I would have my own, private replica of Hogwarts and I would own Harry Potter's Wizzarding World. I have neither, so instead, kudos to Her Majesty J. K. of Rowling. Hail!**

It was the Horcrux Medallion that had caused the nightmare, of that Harry was certain.  
>It absolutely wasn't the fatigue, the stress or the two pounds of Chocolate Frogs he had eaten before bed. Nope, definitely the medallion. <p>

He didn't remember falling asleep.  
>The Boy Who Lived had just turned in for the night, getting as comfortable as one could when camping in the British country side in the middle of December, and lay awake, staring at the...roof? Top? Ceiling? What do you call the upper inside of a tent? Harry was just about to reach for his iPhone so he could Google the answer (never mind that there is no way he would have gotten 3G coverage. I mean, come on. The middle of nowhere? No provider is that good!) when he heard a noise. There was a noise outside of the tent. Yup, definitely a noise. Something sinister must have caused the noise. It couldn't possibly have been a rabbit or a squirrel or some other adorable, fluffy little woodland creature. This is Harry Potter. Even if it's fluffy, it'll still try to kill him. (Get it? Fluffy? Because…the dog…ah never mind).<p>

Whatever it was, Harry was certain its source was bad and being the Chosen One, he had no other choice but to check it out. (Spending most of your high school career fending off death tends to make you a bit paranoid and let's face it, all the press coverage must have gone to his head at some point.)  
>Harry got up quietly, so as not to wake his friends and left the tent. He didn't want to bother Ron and Hermione, because everyone knows that when you go to investigate the source of a potential danger, you do it alone, without the help of someone who knows more than two spells. Or a ginger, human shield.<p>

His bare feet moved silently over the forest ground. His mouth, however, moved less silently, considering that he _was_ moving over forest ground and that this particular type of ground tends to be covered in rocks and twigs and other thing that are extremely uncomfortable to walk on without shoes. Yeah, he didn't think it was necessary to put on shoes, because he is the Boy Who Lived. If he could survive Voldemort, he could survive forest ground! (Grave understatement. If he'd woken Hermione, he would have known that over 60 people die annually, due to extreme exposure to woodland soil.)

After using some highly inappropriate language, unsuited for a children's book really, (never mind that HP stopped being for Children after about three books or so. Honestly she could have put in a little heavier swearing in Order of the Phoenix at least. If she can think up floating brains in fish tanks, she can come up with some creative wizard swears. Now where was I? Oh flip, better restart this sentence. Pardon my ranting. I tend to get carried away…)

After using some highly inappropriate language, unsuited for a children's book really, Harry noticed a cloaked figure, leaning against a tree. His arms were crossed and his face covered by a hood. He looked quite menacing, with the faint ray of moonlight cascading over him, making it seem as if he was glowing. 

'Hello, Harry.' His voice was cold, almost serpent like as the words slithered out of his mouth. ( not really of course. That would just be disgusting. It's okay to have snakes burst out of little old ladies, but let's not make things slither out of mouths. Iew.)

Harry knew that voice all too well. His first instinct was to reach for his wand. (let's call it his first, anyway. After all he hadn't gotten his reputation by cowering behind a tree and yelling for his mummy. There were no trees in his nursery when he was a kid and I'm fairly sure he couldn't talk all that well yet.)

Shit. No wand.  
>No shoes. No wand. No chance.<p>

'Relax Harry. I am not here to harm you or your friends. I simply wish to talk to you.'

Harry didn't buy it. After all, he was parano-I mean, careful. Yeah, careful.

'Right. Sure. And I suppose you just wanted to "talk" when you tried to kill me as a baby. Or in my first year. Or in the Chamber of Secrets. Or that time in graveyard. Yeah the Graveyard. I bet you had a lovely little chat with Cedric, right?'

'Who?'

'Cedric Diggory? The guy you killed the night you got your body back…'

The Dark Lord pondered this for a moment, letting the memories wash over him like a soothing wave. Preferably one off of the coast of Hawaii. The water near England is far too cold.  
>Anyway, soothing wave.<p>

Yes he remembered getting his body back. That was a glorious reunion indeed, after more than a decade of separation. I don't need to tell you what the first thing he did was.

That's right.

He took a bubble bath. With scented bath salts and fizzy balls.

Then, he remembered.

'Ah yes, the spare! So sorry about that but he unnerved me. I swear I saw him sparkle for a minute there. Anyway, that's not the point. The point is, I want to talk to you.'

'Yeah you said that. And I still don't buy it.

Voldemort chuckled, which sounded so wrong, so incredibly wrong that there are no words to describe the sound. ( I recon it won't be long though. I'm pretty sure "Googling" is in the dictionary by now. Hmm, not in Spellcheck though…*Glares at little, red squiggly line*

'Oh, Harry, I do tire so of this animosity between us. I think, perhaps, we got off on the wrong foot.'

'You killed my parents.'

'Ah, yes…there's that. But nothing we can't work around.'

'You tried to kill me, too… Actually you've been feverishly trying to do me in for about 7 years now.'

The Dark Lord held up his hands in an apologetic fashion.

'And I sincerely apologize for that.'

Harry continued, ticking the reasons off his fingers for the sake of emphasis.

'And thanks to you I lost the only family I had left and countless of my friends are dead or dying, I'm running around the entire British country side, camping in wood after sodding wood and going through severe mental torture, all thanks to you.  
>Oh, and my owl died, because of you.'<p>

'…now you're just nitpicking, Harry.'

'I really loved that owl…'

'Yes, all right, so I killed a lot of people! In my defense, I've never had a proper education in the etiquette of socializing.' You-Know-Who huffed. (Not easy to imagine, I can assure you.)

'So you just decided to kill people.'

'Yes. I thought it would make them like me. '

'But it doesn't…'

'No, it just makes them dead.' Voldemort spoke, with a deep sigh.

This caused The Boy Who Lived to raise a dark, unplucked eyebrow.

'…Have you been on youtube?'

'NO! ...yes, but there wasn't much to do around the Malfoy Manor, except brood and Lucius was doing enough of that for a small town, so I Imperioed him into getting broadband. But that is beside the point! The point is, Harry that my eyes have been opened and I see that this strife between us is pointless. We don't have to fight.'

'Are you going to stop killing people?'

'No.'

'Then we kind of have to fight. '

'Come now, Harry! There is no need for rivalry! We are so alike, you and I.  
>Kind of like…like the BlackBerry and the iPhone! We compete even though we need not to! We both have endearing –'<p>

*COUGH*

' …_endearing_ qualities which make us unique and we both look very stylish-'

*UBERCOUGH*

'…_STYLISH! _Yet we each have our own individual expertise that, if combined could really turn the tables on all who oppose us! For instance, I heard you are quite the little flyer. Youngest Seeker in over a century, Captain of the Gryfindor Quiditch Team, the list goes on! As for me, my Killing Curse has never failed to strike! Combine these two and you get an ingenious new feat or "App" if you will. Get it? App? Because I…made the Smartphone…reference…'

The expression on the young boy's face was so full of shock that it was, well, shocking actually.

'I don't know what's more disturbing, the fact that you just suggested Magical Air Raids or that you know what a BlackBerry is.'

'I'm just trying to get with the times, yo.'

' …What?'

'What?'

'Did you just say… never mind. Anyway, little flaw in your observation which I must point out, since it _is _pretty important. Your Killing Curse _has_ missed, remember?'

'No it hasn't! I've never missed!'

' Uhm…Hi. Boy Who Lived, standing right here.' Harry said plainly, with a little wave. 

'…In all fairness I did hit you. There just so happened to be a shield of impenetrable, albeit extremely sappy magic surrounding you.'

'Bull, you missed, which is why we're having this conversation in the first place.'

'No! I hit you! I just…failed to kill you!'

'Which counts as a miss.'

'No! I hit you; there was just something in between!' The Snake like man, before Harry was starting to get agitated. Harry, however, kept his cool. After all, he's Harry Freakin' Potter.

'Missed.' 

'No, I-'

'Missed.'

' I didn't-'

' Miiiiissed.'

The sound that escaped the Dark Lord's lips was, again, so indescribable, so unimaginable, that a word has yet to be invented to describe it.

'*sob* Fine. I missed! Take away the only thing I've ever felt confident about, why don't you!'

The Dark Lord, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, the Darkest Wizard of all time, sank down onto a nearby rock and put his bald head in his hands. You can imagine that the sight of his nemesis like that, a sad little lump on rock in the woods, unsettled Harry.

'Wait, what?' 

'It's not easy, you know! Being the Dark Lord and all. It's always been pressure, pressure, pressure! I haven't had a quiet moment to myself in decades! Honestly, you mention plans of world domination and all of a sudden you're supposed to be this perfect flawless being! "Is the world ours yet, My Lord?", "Are we going to kill the Minister now, My Lord?", "Have you killed the boy from the prophecy yet, My Lord?" Nobody ever cares how I'm feeling today, or if I slept well, or had a nice weekend!

Always the same, bloody song and dance. It's not easy having a whole group of people looking up to you, you know! Following your every, bleeding move! Because that just makes it harder when you fail! And I did fail! I tried so hard, but I failed! Oh sure, killing people was easy at first and I did come pretty close to succeeding, but then you came along! I couldn't kill you and was reduced to nothing! Slithering through the Forbidden Forest, eating bugs and mushrooms and, ugh, Unicorn blood! In your first year I tried to kill you again. And I failed again! Same in your second year! And so on and so on! Your entire school career is made up of my failures, you know that? *sob* you're even destroying my Horcruxes now! I have nothing. Nothing! And all because…because…BECAUSE I COULDN'T KILL A TWO YEAR OLD!

Harry had seen some pretty scary shit in his life, but this took the cake.

'Oh bloody hell. Don't cry. Please! It's hard for me to take you seriously when you're sobbing like a little girl!'

'What does it matter?' The Dark Lord sniffled, whipping what was supposed to his nose on his sleeve. 'I'm a joke! I can't even offer you a truce! I'm *sob* a *sob* FAILURE!'  
>At this point he was wailing so loud, the woodland creatures inhabiting the area within a 20 mile radius, started an evacuation of which the likes hadn't been seen since the events at Farthing Wood.<p>

'Alright look! Just…just stop crying and hear me out, okay? We can do a truce.'  
>Aaand Hell just froze over. <p>

*Sniffle* 'R-Really? '

'Yeah, but it has to go both ways! I'll stop trying to sabotage you, but _you_ have to stop killing and torturing! And give up your plans for world domination, okay? That's just way too Napoleon for this day and age.'

'A-Alright. B-but I have to give up three things and you're only giving up, one. That's not really fair…'

Harry sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

'Alright, what else should I give up?'

'I'll…I'll stop the killing and torturing and the trying-to-take-over-the-world thing, if you…if you…'

'Yes?'

'If you'll be my friend on Facebook…' 

The Devil just did a Triple Lutz while singing the Springtime For Hitler number from The Producers.

'… I'm sorry, what?'

'I've sent you, like, five friend requests, but you haven't accepted them.'

'_Is he pouting? Oh sweet Merlin, he's pouting!'_

'Well, in case you haven't noticed, I've been camping in the woods for the last couple of months and as bottomless as Hermione's purse may be, I doubt she has a laptop and a Dongle in there. Not to mention that Vodaphone or Three probably don't cover this particular area of England, on account of it being _completely deserted!'_

' …'

*sigh* 'Fine, as soon as this is over, I'll log into Facebook and accept your friend request. But don't send me Farmville requests! I hate those bloody things, they spam up my wall…'

This cheered the Dark Lord up considerably, since he hopped off the rock and started rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. (You can NOT imagine how much fun I'm having picturing this. Seriously! Add the pout and making him touch the tip of his forefinger to his bottom lip, you won't be able to breathe!)

'I won't! Promise! 3'

'Now, we can call this whole wizarding war quits then?' 

'Yes!'

'You'll stop killing people?' 

'Scouts honor!'

'You were a scout?'

'Don't look so surprised! How do you think I managed to survive in the wild for ten years?'

'Just wondering. Anyway, truce?'

'We'll shake on it!'

As they shook hands, Harry made a mental note to wash his hand when he got back to the tent. Maybe Hermione has some bleach in that bottomless pit she calls a bag. And a steel sponge.

'Okay, well, I'm gonna go back to the tent and tell Ron and Hermione we can go home now.' Harry turned to leave.

'Hey wait!'

'Yes?' Harry said, turning back with a sigh.

'Do you wanna…you know…hang out sometime?'

Ten Points to Mister Beelzebub for that wonderful Tuck Axel. Extra credit for that adorable pink tutu.

Harry blinked.

'…what?'

'You know, "chill".'

'…with…_what_?'

Voldemort shoved his hands in his pockets (let's just assume he has pockets) and kicked at the ground.

'Just hang, you know. Catch a movie, roller-skate. Fill the world with fear and-'

'Seriously, get off of Youtube.'

'How about Friday?'

Harry was almost afraid to ask, but he did anyway. Looking back, he wished he hadn't.

'Friday?'

'Howz about we Get down on Friday?'

'Oh dear God…'

'Cruise down the highway, kickin' in the front seat.'

Running for your life for seven years, thankfully, gives you certain reflexes. Harry's choices consisted of a)Panic; b)Turn around; c)Run and d) All of the above.

Naturally, d was the wiser choice here. He started to back away slowly.

'Oh! We could go shopping! I can show you my new Jeans!

'No, no, no. Not. Happening!' Harry picked up his pace, slowly starting to turn back, while repeating this mantra over and over. 

'Wait! I don't have your number! Here, put it in my BlackBerry!'

'NO!' Harry started running, running for his life.  
>Voldemort, however, was persistent, and followed suit.<p>

Harry could see the tent, it was there, in the distance, but for some weird reason, it wasn't coming any closer.  
>Unfortunately, Voldemort was.<p>

'Wait! We can be BFF's!'

'NOOOOOOOOOOOO!'

And that's when Harry woke up. In the tent, bathing in sweat and breathing heavily. (If I get more than ten reviews, I'll make him shirtless. [/shameless review whoring])

'Harry, are you alright?' Never before had Hermione's voice sounded more welcome. And let's face it, she has a pretty annoying voice.

'Nightmare. Really. Bad. Nightmare.' And that was a grave understatement. 

Ron, who had been sleeping beside Hermione, (sleeping, sure…), joined the conversation, sounding equally worried. And slightly annoyed.

'About Him?'

'Yeah…'

'Blimey, mate, you look really scared! I thought you'd gotten used to it by now?'

'Yes, Harry, I haven't seen you this spooked about one of your Voldemort nightmares in ages.'

'This one…looked so real…he was…he said.' *Sob*

Ron and Hermione couldn't believe their eyes. They had seen Harry cry before, but this was not out of sorrow. It was out of fear. And these tears were signs of severe mental scarring and years of very expensive therapy to come.

'Calm down mate, it couldn't have been that bad!'

'Ron, he had Facebook!'

Ronald Weasly, the Goldfish Boy.

' …Wha…'

'And a Blackberry!'

'A…black…'  
>Hermione apparently found Ron's imitation of a little, orange carnival prize (1) so fetching that she decided to try it for herself. It looked just as good on her as it did on Ron. Which was not at all.<p>

'And he was quoting Rebecca Black's Friday!'

The horrors their friend had gone through in his time of slumber had finally struck the two teens and they rushed to their Chosen One's side.

'Oh god Harry that's awful!' Hermione said, voice trembling.

'We should just go home, mate. It's not worth this kind of torture.'

'No! We've come this far, we can't give up now. I'll be…I'll be fine.'

'Oh Harry, you're so brave.' (I'll let you choose who says this. Personally, picturing Ron saying it sends me into a fit of giggles.) 

'Thanks. Just…don't turn off the lights. Please.'

'Sure mate. Sure. Anything you need, just give us a shout, right? Mione and I are right here.'

'Thanks guys. Really, thanks.'  
>With the comforting presence of his friends nearby, the Boy Who Lived rested his weary head once more. Before drifting off into a, thankfully, dreamless slumber, a final thought crossed his mind.<br>_'When all of this is over, I'm deleting my Facebook account.'_

**AN:**

**Well don't say I didn't warn you. Don't ask me how I came up with this. I dreamt it and even I had a WTF moment when I woke up. At least, after I stopped giggling.  
>As for the (1) at the end, the little, orange carnival prize reference may not be clear to people who've never been to a carnival. I don't know if it's the same everywhere else in the world, but back in my day (the distant, distant nineties…) when you want to a carnival and you played certain games, you could win a goldfish. I think it's been banned now, animal cruelty or something, not sure. Kids used to love it. Parent, not so much. It was usually the case, that when you sent the kids off to the carnival with the grandparents, they came back with ten Goldfish.<br>Yes, my parents can vouch for that…  
>Ahem, anyway, pleasepleaseplease, leave a review and you shall be loved!<br>And don't forget, brownies for the Starkid references!**

**Peace out, y'all!**


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